Seattle flip-floppers

When I arrived back into Seattle a week and a half ago, my friend Benny picked me up from the airport. Luckily I had thought to e-mail him a few days prior to my arrival to ask him to bring a sweater or sweatshirt or something that I could use to clothe myself, as, coming from a tropical zone, I was quite lacking in that area. Benny followed through and let me borrow one of his zip-up hoodies, and I had a pair of long yoga pants, but all I had with me for my feet were flip-flops, or as the British like to call them, "thongs" (which makes me giggle). I wanted to stop at a grocery store before going back to my apartment so that I could stock up on the essentials - 3 boxes of cereal, 2 forms of milk-like liquids and a banana. At the time I thought I probably looked a little silly wearing my flip-flops, (not that I MIND looking silly, it's just usually I look silly because I've planned it that way) and Benny even mentioned that he could hear me coming closer, as I was probably the only person in Seattle wearing flip-flops in November. At the time I figured he was right.

Then I started noticing something - Seattlites are either lazy or have no temperature receptors in their feet. Upon paying more attention, I've noticed a good half dozen or so people wearing flip-flops in the past week (and I haven't been out all that much). I saw a guy wearing shorts and flip-flops, and that's one type of crazy, but then I've seen several people wearing winter clothes, a scarf, and... flip-flops? I mean, far be it for me to judge another's clothing choice, it's just one of those things that makes my mind go... what?...

I used to despise wearing flip-flops until I realized easy they were to deal with and how delightfully they let your toes breathe. I lived in flip-flops the whole time I was in the DR. When I came back to Seattle and put on socks for the first time, my feet yelled up to me, "what are you doing! You're SMOTHERING me!"

"But feet," said I, "it's cold in this here place, and I need to keep you safe and warm, because you are so very pretty."

"Very well then," said feet. And then they tried to say something else but I couldn't understand the muffled words through the soft, cottony goodness of my warm socks.

Falling for fall?

I'm BACK, baby! Back in Seattle. I thought I'd be miserable, I thought the rain would seep into my bones in a manner of seconds after getting off the plane and depression would set in only minutes afterward. And yet the most wonderful thing has happened; happiness.

Happiness. I'm somewhat unsure of where exactly it's coming from, but I love it. I've never been this happy to be alive in the fall before. All the sights and smells are extraordinary to me, whereas in years past they were merely somewhat pleasant niceties that preceded the dark days of winter. I've become lost in the splendor of apples and cinnamon and crisp air and warm blankets. At times I'm downright giddy with electric excitement to be alive. It's a miraculous thing when just biting into an apple causes waves of luscious pleasure to spill about my body. And don't get me started about what happens when the apple has just been dipped in a chocolate/fig spread!

I don't know if it's the 2 1/2 month vacation, the fact that my vitamin D levels are sky-high, or the "happy pills" my nurse practitioner has had me take for the past few months (better living through chemistry?? - I guess it might be worth it, after all). I would imagine it's a combination of the three, plus great extras like super friends and general rat proximity, but life really is grand.

Maybe now I can try to write a happy song for my guitar.